


Plagg in the Bag

by alexsnpapa



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Identity Reveal, Reveal Fic, dumb puns are dumb, love square shenanigans, marinette is so clumsy sorry girl, tbh mostly adrienette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 15:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexsnpapa/pseuds/alexsnpapa
Summary: Adrien was naked.Literally? Yes. But also figuratively, because Plagg was gone. Plagg in his bag at the school, blissfully pigging out on camembert and watching The Bad Girls Club on his phone. Oh, wonderful. He didn’t have Plagg or his phone.He was literally naked because he was changing into a new outfit for the photoshoot.‘This is a cat-astrophe,’ Adrien thought glumly. A great pun, utterly wasted with nobody to hear it.





	Plagg in the Bag

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all!
> 
> this is my first ladybug fic. i never thought i would fall this deep but here i am lol
> 
> this chapter turned out a lot longer than i intended to! an update will come in due time
> 
> thanks for reading c:

No amount of caffeine could save Adrien from today. Well before the sun due to rise, his alarm rattled him awake. As he slumped out of bed, he could physically _feel_ the weight of the bags under his eyes. It was a very important day. Not to Adrien, but to his father. And if it was an important day to his _father_ , it was an important day for _him._  

Adrien let out a deep sigh and began to get ready. He was overjoyed at finally being able to attend school, but sometimes it was paid with a hefty price. Today he had a photoshoot before class, a meeting with his agency during his lunch break, more shooting immediately after school, _then_ fencing practice. Being a full-time student and having a full-time job was rough, and he didn’t even consider modelling to _be_ his full-time job.

Being an Agreste was.

On top of all that he had to squeeze in some time to _save freakin’ Paris._ He swore one of these days all of the hectic, non-stop motion would kill him.

His father had a brand new collection coming out for the spring season. There was a rush to get everything ready for upcoming promotional pieces, magazine covers, fashion shows, and social media. Adrien had grown up around the chaos, but he never truly got used to it. His father become more irate and temperamental than usual; consequently, his employees were all anxious messes. Even Nathalie had trouble keeping her cool, and that was her whole _thing._ The Agreste house was deadly quiet for the days leading up to the big release. A dreadful feeling hung in the air, like waiting for the jumpscare in a horror movie. Adrien knew something was bound to happen, but he was on edge because he had no idea _when_. Over the next few days the already cold, lifeless house was going to transform into a castle of ice.

Due to his ridiculously packed schedule for the day - on a _Monday_ , of course - Adrien had a game plan. After all, he had been modelling for years; he knew the drill. He packed handfuls of granola bars and other small snacks, water bottles, his phone charger, and most importantly, Plagg. They would feed Adrien at lunch, but he knew he was going to need something else to tide him over. He slung his bulging backpack over his shoulder and the strap dug into his skin. The weight against his hip had him waddling.

Plagg wasn’t a fan of this plan. “Aww, come on, why do I have to be in your bag all _day?_ So boring.” The kwami whined, flying lazy circles around the blonde’s head.

It was far too early for Adrien to be subject to Plagg’s crying. He batted the cat away. “Plagg, please. You can stay on me during class, but you know I’m going to be changing a lot at the shoots. Besides... where do you think I’m going to keep this _cheese_ all day?” Adrien gave a sly smile and waggled his eyebrows as he slowly dropped a ziplock bag of camembert into his backpack. Everything he owned reeked like the stuff; the only way he tried to fight it was with a half-hearted spritz of air freshener. Island Breeze was no match for the stink.

“Nevermind! I’ll consider it a little vacation.” Plagg zipped into the bag after the cheese. He popped his head up to ask, “Does this mean I’ll get your phone too?”

He had recently been binge watching Hulu shows while Adrien was busy. For some reason he was obsessed with hot garbage reality TV. The more fake and scripted the show, the harder it was to pry Plagg away from the screen.

Last weekend, Adrien had walked in on something truly weird.

“ _Seriously?_ ”

“Whaaat? This is the episode Kim gets married to Kris Humphries!” After a beat, Plagg had gasped, shooting over to his charge so quickly he almost collided with Adrien’s eye. “You should have a cheese buffet at your wedding!”

The blonde never thought putting on that silver ring would ever lead to this.

All in all, Adrien bemusedly supported this endeavor. He knew the cat got bored during his long days. And boy, today was about to be _long._ Adrien slapped his cheeks a few times to wake himself up. They were going to need a lot of makeup at this shoot to make him look _alive._ He made sure to grab his headphones for Plagg before bounding down the stairs for a quick breakfast.

Nathalie gave him a rundown of his schedule while he shoveled an omelette into his mouth and burned his tongue on scalding hot coffee. He used to beg to have cream and sugar, but it was deemed “bad for his teeth and diet.” The older he got, the more he became used to black coffee. At least it did a kickass job of clearing the sleepiness from his eyes. During the meal, Adrien noticed how worn out Nathalie appeared. Tiredness showed in her slumped shoulders and unusually messy bun. She was probably drowning in the work his father had given her, and Adrien wouldn’t be surprised if she was the next akuma victim in the state she was in. Gabriel Agreste during crunch time could turn anyone into an emotional wreck.

Truth be told, Adrien was indifferent about modelling. He was great at it; taking directions from the photographer was easy. He didn’t dislike the job, but at this point he knew it wasn’t his passion in life. He never used to understand the cliche people would say, “I love my job! I look forward to it every day.” Adrien never thought he would experience that in his life. The expectation was that he was going to be working for his father in some way or another forever. The blonde couldn’t remember the last time someone asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, or what he wanted to study in the future. Actually, no. He remembered; the last person to ask was his mom. She was the last person that cared.

Not long ago, he realized being Chat Noir was his dream job.

Okay, so it wasn’t _all_ great. Dealing with the absolute decimation of Paris on a weekly basis (the poor Eiffel Tower had been through so _much_ ) and the endless stream of crazy akuma victims could get annoying. If he were anybody besides Adrien Agreste, there would be no way he could pass all his classes and keep up the superhero shindig. He wondered how Ladybug managed. She was a student like him after all. Plus he had no idea what other things in her personal life kept her busy, so maybe she was as overwhelmed as he was. What if she had younger siblings to look after, or other unknown responsibilities?

Adrien didn’t mind the cons. Being Chat was worth all of the sacrifice. How ironic that a tight leather suit made him feel so unconstricted. When he transformed, he felt like his limbs could stretch to their fullest extent. The floodgates were opened and he could just _be_. He didn’t have to fret over every word or action or reaction of his father. The surge of confidence he got as Chat was like an injection straight into his veins, pulsing within him as he trapezed across the city rooftops.

When he was with his lady, everything felt right.

Inexplicably right, like without her by his side... he would feel like he left the house without pants on. Okay, maybe that was a strange comparison, but still. Without his pants, the breeze on his legs would feel weird. Everything would be thrown off.

He couldn’t imagine a life without Ladybug. Hell, he couldn’t imagine a _month_ without her. She helped him express one of the truest parts of himself. He knew he would never have to hold back with her- she didn’t care if he was a dorky mess or imperfect -while Adrien could never afford that luxury. Gradually, Adrien was finding himself opening up more and more at school, but Chat was completely unfiltered.  

Although Adrien’s love was not for modelling, he did appreciate fashion and the industry. His sympathies went out to twenty-something interns that ran around backstage at fashion shows and meeting rooms, balancing several cups of coffee in their arms like goddamn magicians. Walking on the runways was admittedly fun, but watching from the audience way more interesting. Adrien could enjoy the show without dealing with the pandemonium behind the curtain, and there was no attention focused on him. His father was damn good at his job. The clothes on display were impeccable, their designs fresh and memorable. Nobody ever left an Agreste show feeling unsatisfied.

The first photoshoot of the day wasn’t bad at all. Albeit exhausted, Adrien powered through gracefully. On the ride to school a pothole roused Plagg awake from his makeshift bed in the backpack. He lowly grumbled something about how “this is the first and _last_ time Chat Noir was allowed to be a model,” and the noise made his bodyguard glance back. Adrien grabbed at his stomach.

“Ah.. I should’ve had more for breakfast.” He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. The bodyguard seemed to accept this answer and returned his attention to the road.

Plagg “hrrumph”-ed and passed back out. Adrien longed to do the same.

Walking into class he carefully set his bag down next to him. He figured a cranky Plagg was worse than a sleepy Plagg.

Nino noticed his friend yawning and gently poked Adrien in the ribs with his elbow. “You okay, dude? I just saw a sick zombie movie last night and you look worse than them. No offense.”  

Adrien shook his head and smiled. “It’s a Monday. You know how it is.”

“Bro, do I. How about we hit up the bakery at lunch? Treat yo’self. It’ll make today so much better.”

Before Adrien could reply, Marinette came barreling into the room, almost sliding into Chloe and Sabrina. The pair snickered but mostly ignored her. Marinette whipped her head around violently to the front of the classroom where there was no teacher yet present. She checked the time on her phone and her jaw dropped. She fell to the floor and raised her arms up in utter victory - for once, _she made it_. Adrien grinned at her private celebration. He briefly imagined the class causing an uproar at this event. In his mind he could see Alya and Ms. Bustier grabbing Marinette into a group hug and sobbing with joy. But alas, nobody else really seemed to notice besides the people in the front of the room.

“Good morning, Marinette,” he said, giving a small wave. “It’s nice to see you so early.”

Marinette immediately stood up, brushing dirt off her pants. “A-Adrien! Good murnting. Wait, marntang! Oh god, _morning._ But, ah, y-yeah, you too! I mean, it’s so early that you’re the only person I _want_ to see right now.”

Adrien felt his eyebrows ascend into his hairline. Was he?

She went pink. “I-I mean! Just that.. you’re always so nice in the mornings? Not that you aren’t nice all the time and _only_ in the morning I just- _oh my god, why?_ ” Burying her head in her hands, she ran over to her seat.

Nino snorted and shook his head. He glanced at his phone, probably wondering where the heck Alya was. It certainly was a rare sight for Marinette to show up before her best friend. That also meant Marinette had no one to save her from shoving her own foot in her mouth.

Turning around to face her, Adrien just smiled. “You’re right, it really is too early to function right now. I don’t know how I’m going to survive another lecture on trigonometric properties.”

To his left, his friend groaned. “Ugh, _dude_. Don't remind me.”

Marinette scrunched her nose, like the mere thought of trigonometry made her think of the sour smell of spoiled milk.

Any further conversation was cut off by the arrival of Ms. Bustier, followed closely by Alya. She carefully avoided Marinette's questioning stare.

Marinette impressed Adrien in countless ways; she was the bravest person in the entire school, and possibly all of Paris. The only person that had her beat was Ladybug. She was dedicated wholly to the things she loved- fashion and her friends. The girl reminded him of the interns at his father’s company, the ones busting their asses everyday no matter how bleak things seemed. He watched her put herself in danger again and again so her friends would be safe.

No matter how much time passed, the selfless nature of his classmate still managed to awe him. Last Friday in history, Rose’s stomach was rumbling. Loud. The whole class could hear since they were taking a test and complete silence was necessary. She sat in the back of the room, but everyone could tell she was embarrassed by the noises. The teacher went up to her and gave her a warning in a soft voice. She couldn't really help it, but it was distracting to the rest of her peers. Rose squeaked and explained that she hadn't had time for breakfast that morning.

A particularly loud grumble tipped Chloe off.

“Ms. Bustier! I cannot stand this for another second! It's absolutely impossible to concentrate while someone's stomach sounds like some kind of busted-up engine! Get rid of her!”

Rose's cheeks turned as red as Paris’s favorite female superhero. Of course, Chat Noir was everyone's _other_ favorite.

As soon as Marinette turned in her test, she wordlessly handed Rose a small paper bag that smelled suspiciously like cookies.

Adrien wondered _why_ Marinette always seemed to have an emergency supply of baked goods on her. Maybe that was just part of growing up in a bakery.

He thought that if Ladybug went to his school, and trust him, he thought about it _a lot_ , that she would act the same way Marinette did. She didn't give up her cookies looking for praise or glory; she had done it discreetly to save her friend from any further embarrassment.

In fact… wow. Marinette and Ladybug were incredibly alike. Their determination, their fierce loyalty, and _hairstyles_ were wildly similar. ‘ _I should really introduce them someday,_ ’ Adrien thought. Adrien himself couldn't, but Chat certainly could. There was no doubt he could see them becoming good friends quickly. Chat would be proud to bring the two of his favorite people together.

Adrien just wished sometimes that talking to Marinette was as easy as talking to Ladybug. He didn't blame Marinette for stuttering or her anxiety around him; he just didn't understand it. When she was with Alya, she was at ease. All of her expressions were so vivid; every emotion displayed brightly on her face like a digital billboard. He suspected that made her bad at keeping secrets.

It would be nice if Marinette felt comfortable enough around him to be herself. He didn't like how shy she made her.

Class dragged on for an eternity and a half. Every second felt like a year; by the end of their second class Adrien was as old as Plagg. He found it difficult to concentrate with everything buzzing around him like a swarm of bees. He was so damn _busy_ . What if an akuma decided to attack today of all days? His father would skin him like a _cat_ if he messed up any part of his new collection. Adrien involuntarily shivered at the mental image. If a single hair was out of place, the Agreste patriarch would threaten to take his son out of school, snatch him away from his friends, and lock him in isolation until his eighteenth birthday. Adrien couldn't let that happen, not when he had spent so many hours laughing with Nino, bonding over Ladybug with Alya, and stealing glimpses at Marinette’s smile when she didn't notice. He had a group of friends that he loved dearly. Without them, he was lonely old Adrien again. Taking away his contact with his classmates would be worse than never letting him experience it in the first place. It would be like showing a goldfish the sea, only to drop it back into a tiny glass bowl.

It was going to suck, but Adrien was going to make it through the debut of this collection. He had to. He felt the same sense of duty that he did when he was Chat, chasing after a wild akumatized citizen. He would trudge through hell if it meant gaining another hour of happiness with his friends.

When the students were dismissed for lunch, Nino turned to Adrien and slapped a good-natured hand on his back. It startled the blonde back to reality.

“You never answered me before, bro. Do you want to grab a bite at the bakery? Marinette, what's good today?”

Marinette meeped, eyes going wide as she glanced between the two boys. “You and Adrien are coming to m-my family's bakery?”

“It _is_ Paris’s best,” turning on Chat mode, Adrien winked, and she meeped again. After a moment he sighed longingly. “But I can't today. I have a meeting for work in..”

He looked at the clock.

Oh, shit.

“Six minutes! Gotta go!” He flailed a little bit, trying to untangle himself from his chair and desk. “See you guys later!”

His friends bid their goodbyes after him as he rushed out of the room. He definitely deserved cookies and pastries, but it would have to wait. Maybe later that evening Chat could stop by Marinette’s balcony and ask for some treats. She often sketched and did homework out there, and Chat was no stranger to her. He visited on nights that his large room felt like it was suffocating him; he visited to spend time with Marinette unfiltered. She was unafraid to be herself around Chat. She was sarcastic and daring and downright cheeky. Adrien adored learning about these sides of her he normally never saw. She was slightly addictive in that sense, that's why he kept coming back. The way her blue eyes sparkled when she smiled softly at him, even if she had just rolled her eyes at one of his puns, was like catnip to him.

One of the first times he dropped in, evening hadn't yet bled into night. Clouds painted pastel pinks and purples kissed the sky, sitting above the city as its ethereal crown. The twinkling lights on her balcony cast a golden glow that warmed the otherwise chilly air. For awhile he sat off to the side, unsure whether he should interrupt her or not. Marinette was in deep focus; he was shocked by her stillness. Tablet her lap, she had pulled up multiple references and color swatches. She was furiously taking notes in her sketchbook. From where he was perched, Chat noticed her neat handwriting. Damp raven-colored hair lying on her shoulders and dressed in her usual pyjamas, she was incredibly adorable.

A part of him felt guilty for invading her space like this. Obviously, she was in the zone. On the other hand, he wanted nothing more in the moment than to be closer to her. Throwing caution to the wind, he pounced, landing nimbly next to her lounging form. Surprisingly, she didn’t even flinch.

“Hey, Princess, nice socks.” He smirked and poked her ankle lightly with his baton. They were covered in little cartoon cats.

She ignored his comment, eyes still trained on her previous task. “I don’t remember adopting any stray kittens, especially ones that _smell_ like socks.”

“Oh, you are truly _hiss_ -terical,” Chat retorted, but he couldn’t hide his blush. “It’s Plagg’s camembert obsession. The smell follows me around like my tail.”

She didn’t protest when he had curled up at her feet, watching her work for awhile in comfortable silence. She certainly didn’t protest when he fell asleep there, only to be awoken by the allure of freshly warmed croissants.

They spent a lot of their free nights like this. Sometimes they talked and teased each other. Sometimes they just enjoyed each other’s presence.  

The strap of his bag clutched tightly in his hand, Adrien dashed to the car awaiting him outside the school. This meeting was sure to be a snoozefest; it would consist of his father and agent discussing Adrien’s upcoming jobs in the next few weeks. Of course the boy himself wouldn’t be allowed any input, but they made him show up anyway.

In the short drive to his house, the previously light cloudy sky opened up. The humidity had been awfully thick that morning. In moments Paris was drenched. The sound of raindrops on the windshield was deafening in the otherwise silent vehicle.

It was nice, the rain. It brought him more peace than he expected.

-*-

The first clap of thunder made Marinette jump. She was still in the school, waiting for Alya outside the bathroom with the Nino. The forecast hadn't predicted rain.

“A quiche sounds pretty good today. I feel so bad for Adrien though. Maybe we can bring him something back? Poor dude's probably gonna be stuck eating salad at his stuck-up meeting,” Nino said, frowning.

“Do you think he likes lemon bars?” In her mind, Marinette was already concocting a plan to give her crush some pastries. Maybe after school? In between classes? Leaving it in his locker was an option as well. It would be a great excuse to talk to him one-on-one, not that she was a champion at talking around Adrien, but hey, any practice was good practice. She was grateful he was so patient with her. He never made fun of her for rambling.

“Mari, you know as well as I do my man has a giant sweet tooth.”

A smile graced Marinette’s face. It was true, Adrien loved candy and chocolate, even if he technically wasn't supposed to eat them. The only other person she knew that had an intense craving for sweets was Chat Noir. She would bring a plate of cookies up to her balcony and he would come flying in on his baton, like he was able to smell them from miles away. Maybe his miraculous powers included better senses? Hmm. Ladybug would have to ask them the next time they went on patrol.

It was just a night or two ago when Chat came by last. Although she would never admit it to his face, (she might as feed his ego a bag of cocaine), Marinette enjoyed spending time with her superhero partner as herself. He was still a relentless flirt, but it was different than when he was with Ladybug.

Ladybug was idyllic in his eyes. She was perfect, even when she wasn’t. She was “the girl of his dreams, his daydreams, and the savior from his nightmares.” But that’s the thing about dreams, right? Really, they couldn’t be copied and pasted into reality. The _real_ Ladybug was not Chat’s version of Ladybug. She made mistakes, she let her emotions overrule her reason. She used to worry Chat didn’t see her as a regular human being, which was all she was under the mask.

Marinette was not Chat’s Ladybug, either.

Marinette was just Marinette. But for some reason, Chat liked her anyway. Their interactions felt more raw than when she was Ladybug, maybe because she didn’t have an alter ego to hide behind. No masks on her side. However, she never felt over-exposed or vulnerable around Chat; she felt like she could be as carefree as she was with Alya. She wasn’t afraid to tease the silly cat, or to roll her eyes, or push back at him. If he called her Princess, she would call him Kitten. If he wanted to play flirty games with her, she had no hesitation in returning his serve.

As she was mentally cataloging how many pastries to bring Adrien, she idly wondered if Chat liked lemon bars, too.

-*-

Fifteen. Adrien counted fifteen disappointed/petulant looks from his father in one meeting. It was a new record.

The first happened the second Adrien entered the room. He was soaked from the rain and his hair was a messy Chat Noir monstrosity. His father did not approve.

Fourteen more were scattered throughout the hour. A lot of them were the result of Adrien throwing his two cents in to the meeting.

“Saturday the sixteenth is your Place Vendome show, sir.”

Gabriel thought for a moment. “Nathalie, put that down on Adrien’s schedule. Patrice, put him in the line-up. Green jacket. It will be perfect for him.”

Adrien, quiet and obedient up until this point, lurched out of his seat. “Father! No, I can’t! That’s Nino’s birthday, I told you about it weeks ago. He’s going to be having a party and if I miss it I’ll be the worst friend of the century."

That earned a scowl from his father. Of course, how dare he have friends who required special attention for frivolous things such as birthdays? He found it extremely hypocritical that his father disliked Nino but had no problems with Adrien being friends with Chloe. What made Chloe better? Her money? Her father's influence? It surely wasn't her charitable heart.

The older man narrowed his eyes and said, “This is not up for debate, Adrien. This show is far more important than some _childlike_ _birthday party_. It is crucial you are there.”

“But-"

“No. That’s final. If you aren’t there to represent our family name, I will _not_ be pleased.”

 _‘The whole show is in_ your _name. Your logo will be everywhere. Trust me, people will know who made the clothes’,_ Adrien wanted to retort, but he bit his tongue. He wanted to stand up straighter, fight harder, but with the fifteenth glare of disapproval, his willpower fizzled out.

Adrien wanted to rip his hair out of his head and sprinkle it all over his father’s salad. Nino was one of his favorite people in the world, and his best friend was going to miss his birthday. One Saturday. Adrien just needed _one_ Saturday of his life away from the Agreste sideshow, and it was somehow too much to ask.

Oh, Chat was definitely going to Marinette’s tonight. He needed a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies _stat._

Adrien excused himself to the bathroom for the last ten minutes of the meeting. It didn’t matter whether he was there or not, decisions about his life were going to be made for him and his opinions were completely ignored.

“Plagg, why is today the worst day of my life?”

“Stop interrupting my vacation! Unless it's during commercial breaks for cheese, of course.” Plagg tapped pause on Adrien’s phone screen. “And stop being such a drama queen!"

“Coming from _you?_ Okay.”

“Adrien, this is nothing, absolutely, positively _nothing_ compared to when Rick shot Jimmy in the hallway!”

It took Adrien a moment to decipher the reference. “Are you talking about when Drake got shot in Degrassi over ten years ago?”

“It’s still worse than whatever you’re dealing with right now.”

Sometimes asking Plagg for advice was a mistake.

Adrien didn’t have the heart to tell his friend about the birthday party just yet. Sure, he could try to make it up to Nino by buying him an over-extravagant gift, but it wasn’t as genuine as coming to the party and spending time with him. Nino would appreciate the present nonetheless, so Adrien made a mental note to go shopping soon.

After lunch they had group presentations and P.E. indoors due to the storm. The early afternoon sky was a gloomy shitpot that perfectly reflected Adrien’s mood. He tried to distract himself with school, for if he let his emotions get out of hand and he was akumatized, Ladybug was going to be knee-deep in doo-doo. His lady had lectured him on the severity of this possibility many times in the past. She and him were to _never_ be akumatized under any circumstance. Ladybug had the healing powers, but without Chat Noir to help her, Paris was surely doomed. Adrien had floated on a happy cloud for days after she told him that. He loved it when she told him how important he was; he didn’t always feel like he mattered. Validation from Ladybug was like a kiss from an angel, feathery soft and golden warm. He wouldn’t protest an _actual_ kiss from the angel Ladybug herself, either.

“One kiss from her and I’ll never feel a negative emotion again,” Adrien had told Plagg after the akuma of the day had been defeated, his voice dreamy.

Plagg snorted in reply. “You're gross. Don't get your gooey emotions on any of my cheese.”

The end of the school day signaled another two hours of work for Adrien. If he was late to this photoshoot he was worried his father would find a way to cancel Nino’s _own_ birthday party, or something equally as unfair and awful. The blonde was stuffing his notes into his folder when he felt a quick tap on his shoulder.

“H-hi, Adrien! Sorry you couldn’t come with us at larch- no, lurtch! L-”

“Lunch?” Adrien asked. He noticed Marinette was toying with a paper bag in her hands. Probably her leftovers from the bakery, he thought. She was so lucky to have an unlimited supply of fresh bread and snacks. “I promise I’ll be there next time for sure.”

“Oh, o-okay, yeah. Yeah, I would like you! I mean I would like _that_ , not you. I mean, I like _you,_ obviously _but!_ Not _like_ ,” she laughed nervously, “that would be… uh. Anyway! I wanted to-”

A loud car horn beeped outside and his heart dropped. “I’m sorry, Marinette! I really have to go right now, but I’ll see you tomorrow!” He left the classroom with Chat-like speed.

The rain’s intensity had increased ten-fold while he was inside. Thankfully, this time he had an umbrella. Students hid under awnings and chatted to each other as they waited out the heavy downpour. Others dashed across the sidewalks into the safety of their parents’ vehicles, their only flimsy shields being  jackets or mistreated textbooks. Adrien escaped the wrath of the rain with slightly damp socks and shoes. As he shut the car door his driver floored it toward the shooting location. It was in a stark white studio, unwelcoming, unnaturally cold, and ungodly boring.

The clothes were quite nice, though. He browsed through the pieces he would be wearing; apparently suede was very in. He wondered what his father's inspiration was for this collection. His designs were hard to read. Before his mother's disappearance, Gabriel Agreste’s clothes were full of patterns and color and life. Their seams were bursting with energy and vibrant creativity. Now, they were crisp and harsh. It was like his father was purposefully avoiding emotion; it showed in his designs. Maybe it had something to do with resentment. Adrien thought his father resented his mother, and lashed out at Adrien for the same reason. At times, Adrien thought his father resented him simply for having the same green eyes as her. The resentment and denial of her disappearance led his father straight down the path to becoming an asshole. _‘At least he’s not as big of an ass as Hawkmoth.’_

It wasn't until the middle of hair and makeup that he realized he didn't have his bag with him.

-*-

When Alya came back from the locker room, she found her friend slumped over her desk, pulling on her pigtails sadly. An unopened bag of pastries sat on the desk in front of her.

“You couldn’t do it, huh?”

“I told him I liked him, Alya!” Marinette cried, voice slightly muffled by the wood.

“ _What?_ Really? Girl, spill!”

Marinette snapped her head up, anguish burning in her eyes, followed by sudden dizziness. “I told him I liked him, but didn’t _like_ him, and now he’s going to think I don’t love him! I know I don’t want him to know _now_ but I don’t want him to not know _ever_. And I made no sense, like usual! Then he left.”

Alya tapped a finger on her chin thoughtfully. “Hm, it does seem like he's particularly busy today. He was way more out of it than usual, don’t you think?”

Marinette hummed in agreement. Adrien was normally very put together; but today he was all over the place. She had hoped her lemon bars would at least make him feel a little better, even if the gesture was small.

“Look, he even left his bag here. Have you ever known Adrien to leave something behind like this? It’s been glued to his side all day,” Alya pointed to the object hanging off the back of the blonde’s chair.

She was right, Adrien hadn’t let it out of his sight recently. He must have been so preoccupied by his after school plans that he forgot it.

Marinette stared the object down like it was the key to the universe. This could be her second chance. “He does have fencing at four…”

Alya blinked, but then immediately caught on. “Um, yes! That’s a great idea. You can return it to him then! Maybe the lemon bars were a little too much for right now, but giving him his bag back should be easier. Just try not to get it wet on the way home.”

Marinette slung it over her free shoulder. One way or another, she was going to have a conversation with Adrien today. And this time, it was going to make sense, _dammit._

-*-

Adrien was naked.

Literally? Yes. But also figuratively, because Plagg was _gone._ Plagg in his bag at the school, blissfully pigging out on camembert and watching _The Bad Girls Club_ on his phone. Oh, wonderful. He didn’t have Plagg _or_ his phone.

He was _literally_ naked because he was changing into a new outfit for the photoshoot. Two hours from now, he would go back to the school for fencing practice and get Plagg back. Hawkmoth just needed to hold off on an akuma attack for two more hours. Hopefully the rain would help deter any evildoing.

 _‘This is a_ cat _astrophe,’_ Adrien thought glumly. A great pun, utterly wasted with nobody to hear it.

Unfortunately, there was a recent spike attacks left Adrien feeling dreadfully anxious. Ever since he had become Chat Noir, Plagg was ever-present by his side. The distance between them felt like the Grand Canyon. His nakedness had him feeling like a cat with its belly exposed.

With his luck, a janitor would take the bag and lock it away until tomorrow morning. An akuma would attack that night because fate and the cosmos _hated_ him and Ladybug would be waiting for her partner that would never come. Unless he could break into the school somehow; committing a crime in order to defeat crime. That was always good fun.

If not. Hawkmoth would win by default because Adrien was a dummy who forgot his kwami. The poor luck of the black cat would be the ultimate demise of Paris.

Adrien felt his hands shake as he got dressed. That coffee this morning was a bit too strong. He was also insanely worried. What if something serious happened the one time he was separated from Plagg?

The blonde took a deep breath and willed his heartbeat to stabilize. He couldn’t worry over problems that hadn’t happened yet. In two more hours, he would be back with his favorite, annoying, stinky little friend.

-*-

“...Should I do it, Tikki?”

“Absolutely not!” Her tone was final. She crossed her tiny arms and her stance reminded Marinette of her mother when she was upset. It was kind of scary to be honest.

Marinette peered down at the bag on her lap. Adrien’s bag. Full of all Adrien-esque things. “But what if I learn something new about him?”

“Like what? What kind of pencils he likes?”

“Yes! Maybe he’s more into mechanical pencils, or maybe even pens! I could learn what kind of essentials he keeps on him every day! Tikki, this is such a great opportunity!”

Marinette had certainly grown closer to Adrien over the past few months. She was well beyond a stranger or acquaintance to him- they were friends. She knew a lot about him from her crush, but she suspected there was something else hidden underneath his “perfect son, perfect model, perfect student" exterior. She didn't want to pry into his business, because she knew about secrets better than anyone. But she wanted him to be unafraid to share more with her. She wanted him to be as interested in her as she was in him. She really had to work on talking coherently.

Tikki was unhappy. “Marinette, that would be a _huge_ violation of privacy. That’s not fair to Adrien. Would you want him to go through your stuff?”

She glanced around her bedroom, which was currently decked out wall to wall with pictures of the blonde. It wasn't her fault- it was the magazine's for releasing a beautiful twenty-page spread on the boy. There were rumors that an Adrien calendar would be coming out at the end of the year. Marinette hoped for her sanity and her wallet that it wasn't true. “...Maybe not. I know this isn’t my best idea, Tikki. I just want to know more about him.”

“If he got ahold of your purse, how would you feel if he looked inside and saw _me?_ ”

Marinette sighed in defeat. Tikki was the voice of reason, after all. “Okay, I get it. It was just an impulse thought; I won’t go through with it.”

“You promise?” Tikki crowded Marinette's face, batting her eyelashes seriously.

“Yeah. What would I find in there anyway? It's not like I would see something that we both have common interest in. Or… oh, but what if there _is?_ He could have a… a tennis ball in there! Or something!” Gesturing wildly, she paced around her room. “Then I could return it and be like, ‘Adrien, I noticed you're a fan of tennis. What a crazy coincidence, I am too! Maybe we should play sometime? Or go see a match? I happen to have tickets right here.Oh, as a date, you ask? Well, if you _insist_ ’”

“Marinette, you hate tennis.”

“You know what I mean.”

Marinette knew Tikki was right; going into Adrien’s bag would break his trust. Like her Ladybug self, she knew that trust outweighed everything else. If Chat Noir’s bag fell from the sky and into her lap, she wouldn't snoop in it either. The temptation to know his secret identity was there; the more she talked to him as Marinette, her curiosity grew. However, she respected his privacy. If they were going to find out their identities, it couldn't be just because one of them gave into the temptation.

It was silly to think Adrien’s bag held some magical key to winning over his heart. It was probably just full of notebooks and folders like her own bookbag.

She still had time to kill before it was time for Adrien’s fencing lesson. After helping her parents in the bakery with the after-school rush, she spent the last hour doing some homework. You never knew when an akuma was going to attack; it was better to get a jumpstart on essays than be stuck writing them at three a.m. At the beginning of her Ladybug adventures, Marinette had spent countless nights falling asleep on her textbook. She still would, sometimes, but she was trying to manage her time responsibly. Being a superhero was a very demanding after-school club. Marinette opened her windows to let in the fresh air and to listen to the rain. It helped her focus on the task at hand and forget about the bag sitting on her chaise until four o’clock rolled around.

Umbrella in one hand and Adrien’s backpack in another, she headed back to the school. ‘ _I should look into designing some rainboots.’_ She narrowly avoided being drenched by the spray of water that emerged when a car drove by. A rumble of thunder slowly crescendoed; a cat’s purr. Paris was breathtaking no matter the precipitation. The city was like one of those people that looked perfect at all times. Like Adrien.

Actually, nevermind, Adrien was the worst. He was attractive, rich, nice, and _humble_ about it all. Chloe could have been one of the most popular people in their class if she possessed the latter traits. Adrien was perfection but also so much _more._ When you got to know him, he was mischievous. He would make little puns and smirk, not smile politely. He would turn into such a Chat Noir it wasn't even funny. Marinette paused mid-step and had a jolting epiphany. ‘ _Maybe Adrien’s secretly one of his fanboys?’_ Perhaps she would pluck up the courage to ask him today.

First, she needed the mental strength to return his bag. Then, she could ask him all about Chat. Bracing herself, she entered the school.

-*-

 _‘Where are you, where are you?_ ’ Adrien scrambled to find his backpack. He climbed under desks and chairs, but it was nowhere to be found. “Plagg, I promise to build you a _castle_ out of cheese after this.”

Fencing lessons were going to start any second, but Adrien couldn’t rest easy until he knew where Plagg was. What if he had fallen into the wrong hands? What if his kwami was in Hawkmoth’s clutches? Adrien still had his miraculous, but it was a terrifying idea. If Ladybug ever found out this happened she would kick his ass, and not in the good way.

Giving up on the empty classroom, he frantically checked the locker room. There was a hopeful glimmer in his heart when he saw a lost and found box tucked away into the corner. It was empty, aside from an old book. He wanted to cry.

This was it. It was officially the worst day of his life.

He sat down on the nearest bench and rubbed his temples. Okay, he could fix this. ... _How_ was he supposed to fix this?

Mind swimming and headache forming, he sat there for a few more minutes. He would have to make it through his lesson without letting the cracks show. Afterward he was free to come up with a plan. He wished he and Plagg had some sort of psychic connection so they would know where each other was. Sure, he would have to listen to his kwami complain and talk about camembert _even more_ than he already did, but Adrien was willing to take it over losing him.

Across the room, the door squeaked opened. If it was one of his fellow fencers, he wasn’t in the mood. If it was the fencing instructor coming up to berate Adrien for his tardiness, he _definitely_ wasn’t in the mood. He needed more time to calm down.

“Adrien?”

He _was_ in the mood to see Marinette. He always was. She inched the door open. What a godsend; she could make him feel better even if his arm had just been chopped off.

“Hey, Marinette. What are you doing here?”

She was holding a dripping umbrella. A puddle was growing fast next to her right shoe. Her cheeks were a bit rosy, but that was their default when she was talking to Adrien. Lastly, he saw she had his bag clutched tightly to her chest.

Adrien jumped to his feet. Plagg! He felt his eyes widen comically. Oh no… _Plagg_. ...Did she know? Did she see the kwami inside? For the first time, he couldn’t read her expression. Concerned? Was she disappointed that Adrien was Chat? Or vice versa?

She didn’t move from the doorway. Neither of them moved at all. Adrien was tense; Marinette furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at him.

“...Are you okay?” she asked, all but a whisper. That wasn’t what he was expecting.

No, he wasn’t. The last two hours had been a slow motion panic attack, and now a quicker sense of dread was filling him up head to toe.

Adrien shook his head, choosing to pick at a loose thread on his uniform sleeve. “Not really. It’s been a bad day,” he said truthfully.

“I- uh-you left this on the back of your chair.” She gestured to the backpack she held in a tight embrace.

As she approached him, his heart rate increased. The pure emotion radiating from those blue eyes had him shaking. He could barely hear the next boom of thunder over the drumming of his heart. The shadows in the room cast falling rain on her face. He didn’t know why but he was scared of her in this moment. Scared of her rejection. Scared to lose someone so important to his life, someone who knew him better than most. Lying to people he cared about on a daily basis was the hardest part of being a superhero. He hoped Marinette would forgive him for hiding the truth so long.  

“I’m so sorry you had to find out like this.” He prepared for the worst- yelling, banning Chat from her house, the cold shoulder. He didn’t know if he could survive Marinette avoiding him. The thread on his sleeve snapped.

She blinked. “Find out what?”

Adrien’s shoulders sagged in relief. He let out a long breath he didn’t know he had been holding. She hadn’t seen the kwami. Thank god for Hulu and earbuds for keeping him quiet all day. Eventually, she deserved to know.

In true Marinette form, she tripped on the air and belly-flopped onto the floor, landing with a wince-worthy _smack._

Running over to her before his mind could catch up, he knelt beside her. “Are you okay?!”

Her tumble meant his backpack had escaped her hold as well. It had landed a few feet in front of her head, all contents spilling out like an over-boiling pot of water. A pencil-sharpener rolled under a locker. One of his folders exploded, the loose-leaf papers a new decoration to the room.

And then, Plagg.

“During the season finale?! _Really,_ Adrien? During the second greatest cinematic masterpiece I’ve seen in the last century, behind that documentary on Italian cheeses?! And guess what? A Chat Noir _made_ that documentary!” the cat in question flew over and bopped into Adrien’s nose with his head.

Adrien started to protest, but it was far too late. “Plagg! Shut up!”

Marinette, now sitting upright on the floor, nose steadily trickling blood, squeaked, “ _Chat...?_ ”

Oops.

“Uh-h, yeah… I guess the _cat’s_ out of the _bag,_ huh?”

Literally.

Marinette screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> lol this was all to make the typical "when chat gets revealed" pun even dumber. you're welcome.
> 
> i am working on more!


End file.
